


Beached

by Davechicken



Series: The Pilot and his Knight [34]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:57:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7571536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the General orders you to go on holiday... you go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beached

Time to themselves is hard won, and jealously guarded. Jealously, and guiltily. Neither Kylo nor Poe is good at walking away from their duties, and it had to come down to a General’s snapped _would you two seriously take a break before I break something myself_ (in a very **loving** tone of voice) before they’d agreed to take more than a few days off together at once.

The first few days are spent eating too much, watching too much, and generally not leaving the bedroom for extended periods of time (other than to top up on supplies, or stagger to and from the ‘fresher). But eventually, Poe’s wanderlust is too high. Poe, more than Kylo, needs to be free: he’s never had his head down close to the ground since he was young, and it’s one of many things Kylo loves about him.

Many, many things.

It’s late afternoon, and the suns are already yawning their way towards their own beds, under the horizon. The heat is still high but waning. The world is dappled gold, light doing double-duty reflected off the water’s dancing surface.

A drink in one hand, a pilot in the other. His fingers tighten around the glass, feeling the cold sink in - or the heat leech out - and the tiny beads of condensation under his whorled fingertips. 

Water, water, everywhere. In the gaps between land, in the slightly-humid air, in the glass and on it, and inside them, too.

Humans are mostly water. Kylo understands implicitly, in this moment. 

It’s deep, and in flux. Hot on the surface, and dizzy with light. Cooler further down: darker, but no less alive. An ecosystem all of its own in the currents and the tides, forever locked in love with the coast and always only ever able to caress and retreat.

It is almost too much. Almost. The life teeming in the water, the taste of salt on his lips, the way it goes _so, so, so very deep_. He startles at the kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m going to paddle. You coming?”  


Cold feet, warm heart, a mix of both Light and Dark.

“Yes.”  


Oh, he needs the underneath things, just as badly. Without them, it would all fall apart.


End file.
